It is well known that all the rules which prevent unauthorised persons from prying into the arcana of a fortress are strictly enforced at Gibraltar; and on this account a naturalist wishing to explore the rock should always apply for the previous permission of the Governor. Not intending to remain more than a few hours, we had declined the hospitable invitation of Sir W. F. Williams, and not thought of obtaining an order to authorise our unrestricted rambling over the rock. Towards evening Ball had started with his tin box to examine the steep eastern face that looks towards the Mediterranean. While scrambling about in search of plants, he became aware that his movements were watched by two Irish soldiers, both decidedly the worse for liquor, and as he returned towards the path the word ‘spy’ was emphatically pronounced more than once. Anticipating any further unpleasant remarks, he addressed them some ordinary question, with a fair infusion of that national accent that is unmistakable to the Hibernian ear. The effect was immediate: the men were delighted to recognise a countryman; question and answer rapidly succeeded, and the only difficulty was to resist their pressing invitation to adjourn to a neighbouring wine-shop, where the poor fellows’ remaining intelligence would have been finally quenched in the compound of grape-juice and ardent spirits that is sold at Gibraltar as Spanish wine—not much worse, perhaps, than the mixture that is drunk at home by not a few persons boasting a refined taste under the name of pale sherry. It seems natural to ask whether it is or is not true, as one is often assured, that correct plans of all the chief fortresses in Europe are to be found in the War Office of each of the chief States; for in such case the attempt to maintain secrecy as against the ignorant curiosity of travellers seems to be a puerile occupation for the military authorities in command. The rock of Gibraltar and the sandy tract called the Neutral Ground produce many rare and interesting-plants; but these are already well known to botanists, being separately described in Kelaart’s _Flora Calpensis_, and further illustrated in a work of first-rate authority, Boissier’s _Voyage Botanique en Espagne_. The only tree that seems to prosper thoroughly on this barren sun-baked headland is the Chinese _Phytolacca arborea_, which was planted some fifty or sixty years ago in the Alameda and elsewhere, many of which have attained a great thickness. They remind one of the stunted clustered columns of some mediæval churches, each of the very numerous branches developing a projecting cylinder of woody trunk covered with grey bark.